Chuck and Sarah versus Huey Lewis
by Liam2
Summary: They may be down and out, but it always comes back to Chuck and Sarah. See what lengths he'll go to win her back. A fluffy sorta fic dedicated to crystal.elements.


_This fic is fluff. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. You just wrote "McClintock!" a couple weeks ago, now you're writing fluff again? Well, there's a good reason for it._

_Here's the deal. For those who don't know, __**crystalelements**__, author of the positively splendiferous "Chuck Versus The Closet Gleek", is about as sweet a girl around. So much so, she's actually capable of inducing diabetic shock. Anyway, very recently, she did something incredibly nice for __**mxpw **__and myself. So, in return, I decided to pay her back._

_Now if anybody else should happen to enjoy this story, you're free to leave a review. Frankly, I like reviews. But this fic is for Crystal, and girl, I hope you enjoy._

_And as is the case with most of my fics these days, big thanks go out to __**mxpw**__ for doing beta work on this story. I'm so used to scriptwriting anymore, he really bails me out when my fic writing goes wonky and awry. _

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Chuck and Sarah versus Huey Lewis

By Liam

------------------

It'd been quite by accident that Chuck had discovered this latest tidbit about the enigmatic Sarah Walker. He'd arrived a little early for a debriefing. In all honesty, he'd hoped for a moment or two alone with her before Shaw took command of the conference.

She sat at the conference table, laptop before her. But she wasn't typing away at a report. Instead, she watched the screen intently, an amused, almost shy smile upon her face. And what was funny, she hadn't even noticed his entrance.

"Are you…watching TV?" Chuck asked, amazed.

Sarah startled slightly and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. A blush colored her cheeks, embarrassed at being caught. But she didn't shut her laptop or try to deny the fact. "I am," she finally admitted.

"Wow. I didn't think you watched TV."

With a meaningful look at Chuck, she said, "In the last couple years, I've found myself doing many things I never have before."

Chuck bowed his head to try and hide his smile. "I always suspected there was a real girl underneath that agent façade."

"Yeah, well," Sarah said with her own smile. "If you don't mind, I'd like to finish this episode before our meeting."

"Sure, sure," Chuck said, raising his hands in apology. "Uh, by the way, what are you watching?"

It was a rhetorical question, since the musical number he walked in on was a dead giveaway. He just wanted to see the look on her face as she admitted it.

Sarah pointedly avoided looking at Chuck as she answered, "_Glee_." As Chuck lifted a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter, Sarah mock huffed, never taking her eyes off the screen. "Take it outside, Lemon."

Chuck couldn't contain the sound. Laughter echoed off Castle's walls.

--------------

So it went for a couple weeks. Chuck would come down to Castle to find Sarah perched behind her laptop watching TV. And it wasn't always _Glee_. Sometimes it would be, ironically enough, _Castle_. Other times it would be something sci-fi like _Firefly, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, _or _Doctor Who_.

"What can I say? You were right. Everyone should watch _Buffy_ at some point," she admitted. Sarah then proceeded to shush him and return to the show.

Most of the times when she watched these shows, Sarah would have something to work on, whether it was some paperwork, or cleaning her pistol, or whatever. It was as though she couldn't allow herself to go forty-three minutes without getting _something_ productive done.

But whenever it was _Glee_-time, the cleaning supplies were put away. Paperwork was set aside. There were to be no interruptions. When Sarah was ready to watch _Glee_, she fixed herself a heaping bowl of strawberry yogurt with sprinkles and focused her entire concentration on the computer screen.

Even Shaw had learned better than to bother her.

Chuck shuddered. Shaw. If only the Intersect would flash on body disposal methods, he'd be all set. Chuck frowned and sighed. Okay, so maybe that was a rotten thing to say. But ever since he'd arrived in town, the new agent had acquired a disproportionate amount of Sarah's attention.

What did Shaw have that he didn't? Besides good looks, confidence, a way with words, and a skill set that didn't require tapping into a government supercomputer to access?

Chuck sighed again. It was hopeless. He would never win Sarah back. Okay, yeah, so maybe he'd been seeing the new girl at Buy More, but it was no secret that Sarah was still the girl of his dreams. Hell, even Casey had developed a begrudging acceptance of that fact.

"Hey dude. How's it going?"

Assistant Manager Morgan Grimes, Chuck didn't think he'd ever get used to that, slapped him across the shoulders and joined him at the Nerd Herd counter, staring out into nothing.

"Fine. Just fine," Chuck idly replied.

Morgan chuckled. "Wow, dude. You are just so…transparent."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is you've landed yourself a delectable piece of chocolate cake, but you're still longing for a bowl of yogurt."

Chuck stared quizzically at his bearded friend. "I don't even know how to respond to that."

Morgan continued on, unfazed, recounting his sage advice. "Yeah, chocolate cake tastes great, but it's bad for you. Too much will make you sick and lead to high cholesterol. But yogurt…man, yogurt tastes great and is great _for _you. All those vitamins and minerals. All that calcium…man, it's done her body good."

Morgan sighed, his mind somewhere else. Chuck said, "Morgan, you do realize that's _my _ex-girlfriend you're currently imagining, right?"

Morgan shook those thoughts away. "Yeah, but I'm imagining her _objectively_. Like a doctor would. Just call me the Surgeon General, my man."

Chuck ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, amused. "But I'm cut off from the yogurt dispenser…and God, I want this analogy to end."

"The question is," Morgan continued, wrapping his arm around Chuck's shoulders, "what are you gonna do about it?" Morgan tapped a finger against his head. "Think about it."

And with that, Morgan went off to do…well, whatever the Assistant Manager of an electronics store did. Once more, Chuck was left with his musings.

-----------------

Two nights later, while on a date with Hannah, Chuck was assaulted by a terrible sight. While walking the streets, enjoying ice cream, the pair happened to find themselves in the same neighborhood as an upscale Italian restaurant.

"Chuck," Hannah said, tugging lightly on his arm, "isn't that your ex-girlfriend? The yogurt girl?"

Sure enough, it was Sarah exiting the restaurant. She was dressed in his absolute favorite cobalt blue dress. The one with the ruffled cleavage, the midnight blue ribbon around the waist, and the thin spaghetti straps. And he really loved how she wore her hair; pulled back into a wavy ponytail and pinned by a matching black and blue ornament. And the way she left one wavy lock to dangle over her left eye…

"Wow. That's an expensive dress for someone in the food service industry. I think it's a Jasmine Miranda."

Chuck wasn't listening to his new girlfriend's words. He was too focused on the man attached to Sarah's arm. Shaw. He was looking positively dapper in Armani. As the valet arrived with his car, Shaw opened the passenger's side door for her.

"I guess she's moved on, too."

"Yeah. I guess so."

Almost as though she sensed his presence, Sarah turned, her eyes finding his. She couldn't help but notice the young woman next to him. However, the connection was only for a moment. She quickly turned away and ducked inside the car. But if Chuck wasn't mistaken, the emotion he saw in her eyes…it was regret.

In that moment, Chuck felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe she wasn't lost to him.

-----------------

Two nights later, Chuck and Hannah were invited over for dinner with Devon and Ellie. It was a quiet, cordial dinner, full of good food and polite conversation. Around ten pm, Chuck escorted Hannah out. When he returned, Ellie greeted him with:

"I don't like her."

"What? Why? How long have you been holding that nugget of information to yourself?"

"How long how have been seeing Hannah?"

"About a month."

Ellie smiled that Bartowski smile. The one that indicated her answer to be _'about a_ _month'_. "I'm sorry," Ellie said, carrying the dishes into the kitchen. "She's just kinda…blech. Like Jill. I don't know how else to explain it. What do you think, honey?"

From his spot at the sink rinsing dishes, Devon offered, "Well, she's no Sarah Walker." And with his pointed look, Chuck got the full implication of his words.

"What do you suggest I do?" Chuck asked. It was meant for his sister, but Devon interrupted with—

"Ditch Hannah. Make a play for Sarah. Win her back, dude."

Ellie nodded in agreement. "What he said," she said with a nod to her husband. "Sure, Sarah is a little…flaky…at times. But she's a sweet girl. And before she came along you had absolutely no sense of direction. She gave you purpose."

"Actually…" Chuck hesitantly began. "Sarah's kinda seeing someone, too."

"What? How long?" Ellie questioned.

Chuck shrugged. "About a month."

"Interesting," Ellie observed, "how you both decided to move on at the same time. I swear, you two are just the most stubborn…"

"Hold on," Devon started. "She's not seeing that guy that's been hanging around her shop, is she? What did you call him, new management?"

"Wait, you knew?" Ellie scolded her husband. "And you didn't tell me?"

As Ellie and Devon had their minor spousal squabble, Chuck was left to ponder their previous words and advice.

----------------

That night, Chuck thought on the subject more. So much so that he actually began to compile a list about each woman. He started with Hannah and two hours later, he'd compiled a five-page list of positive qualities about her. Five pages of reasons why he should continue his relationship with her. He then moved on to Sarah, and after two more hours, he'd only written one line:

She's Sarah.

Somehow, that one line seemed so much more meaningful and definitive than five pages.

---------------

"It's because you're not over her, isn't it?"

Well, he had to give Hannah credit. She was handling his admission with a quiet grace.

"Yeah, it is."

Tears in her eyes, Hannah looked to Chuck's right, focused on a spot on the floor. "She may never love you. She looked pretty cozy with that other man."

"I know. But I can't go the rest of my life without knowing for sure."

Hannah jerkily nodded, overcome with emotion, battling to keep it inside. "Good luck then." She walked by, but stopped long enough to throw over her shoulder, "I hope you have a plan. Because that was a dish on her arm."

Chuck hoped he had a plan, too.

---------------

Well, any hope Chuck had of Sarah swooning in his arms upon learning Hannah was gone were quickly dashed. It was silly really. Sarah didn't seem the swooning type anyway. If anything, her relationship with Shaw seemed to pick up a little more steam.

At least outwardly that was the case. A few nights of the week, Sarah would make plans with the handsome and dashing agent. Chuck would watch as they made their romantic plans, dressed up in their finest, and drove off in Shaw's Mercedes.

And so Chuck sat in his Nerd Herder, clad in his uniform, eating a tuna salad sandwich. He picked a bit of potato chip off his tie as he listened to _Journey's Greatest Hits_. Oh yeah. This was a fair competition. Why would she possibly leave all _that _for all _this_?

The passenger door suddenly opened. John Casey's burly form flopped down in the seat, the Nerd Herder lurching under his weight. As he opened his brown paper lunch bag, he greeted Chuck with, "Que pasa, numbnuts?"

"Nothing," Chuck mumbled. "Just having lunch." He looked at Casey, curious. "What are you doing here?"

"Huh?"

"Unless we're working at Castle, you never eat lunch with me."

"Thought I'd change things up." Off Chuck's disbelieving expression, Casey added, "What? I'm not a robot."

As Chuck stared at his handler, realization struck. "Oh. My. God," he declared. "You too?"

"Me too what?"

"First Morgan, then Ellie and Awesome, and now you?"

"Bartowski, if you don't stop talking in riddles…"

"You're here to talk to me about Sarah."

With his most incredulous and offended expression and tone, Casey shouted, "I am not!" He put a little extra bite into his salami sandwich and chewed with a little extra furor. When it became clear that Chuck wouldn't stop staring at him, Casey reluctantly admitted, "Okay, so I am. But only because I don't like Secret Agent Ima Tool."

"Casey…I don't mean to alarm you…but I think we're having a moment."

Casey's eyes went wide. He nearly choked on his sandwich. "No, we're not."

"I think we are. Believe me, I've had them before, and they feel remarkably like this."

"We are NOT having a moment."

"Yes, we are, buddy. I think we should hug it out."

Casey jerked around in his seat and grabbed Chuck by the tie. He pulled the geek close and hissed, "If you continue to drive down this road you'll find yourself crashing into the telephone pole that is my fist."

"Did I say moment?" Chuck gasped. "I meant a simple understanding. You know, between two opposing forces who realize they share a mutual adversary."

Casey loosened his grip as he pondered this amended statement. He finally grunted in acceptance. "Better. But don't push your luck, Lemon." Casey then pushed Chuck aside. Chuck took a moment to recover and noted his bag of potato chips had spilled over his lap. He held up a large chip and offered it to Casey.

"Barbeque?"

Casey growled in response.

-------------------

"_Glee_ again?" Chuck asked, walking down the staircase. Sarah sat at her laptop, a bowl of strawberry yogurt in hand. One leg crossed over the other, bobbing in time to the music.

Chuck sat at the table across from her. He took the opportunity to simply watch her. Sarah obviously knew he was, but refused to be distracted. Chuck watched as a dopey smile became etched on her face.

"Do you mind?" she asked. "Trying to watch TV here."

"The season doesn't resume until next week. Meaning that's an old episode. Meaning you've already seen it eighteen times."

"So?"

Chuck snorted with laughter. "What is it with you and _Glee_? It's not a terribly well written show."

"No, it isn't," Sarah admitted.

"It's kind of stupid and silly."

"Yes, it is," she agreed.

"So why?"

"Because it makes me smile."

"That's all it takes for you to like something? If it makes you smile?"

"What can I say? I'm a simple girl."

"I think it's nice. Makes you seem like a real girl."

Shaw chose that moment to enter the room. As he walked by Sarah, ready to assume his place at the head of the table, his fingers swept through her blonde hair, tickling the back of her neck. A flicker of a fond smile graced her face, that is, until she remembered Chuck was a mere few feet away. She guiltily turned aside.

"You're watching that stupid show again?" Shaw asked. Unlike when Chuck said it, Shaw's tone held none of the teasing or amusement. He genuinely didn't understand and thought her wasting her time.

Hurt by his tone, Sarah only mumbled, "Yeah. I'm watching that stupid show again."

-------------

"Bartowski! My office!"

Chuck entered Big Mike's office and sat across from Buy More's manager. He fidgeted nervously, wondering what it was Big Mike wanted. Usually in a situation such as this, Chuck would soon be receiving a directive to "get the hooligans out there in order". But recently, remarkably due to Morgan's leadership, the hooligans were being well behaved.

"Yes, Big Mike?"

"Bartowski," Big Mike began, "you are without a doubt the finest Nerd Herd supervisor this store has ever known."

Chuck perked at the compliment. "Thanks, Big Mike. I appreciate that."

"But I'm worried about you, boy," his boss continued. "I'm worried about your future productivity."

"How do you mean?"

"I've been watching you, boy. You turned in the keys to a brand new Mustang, now your pining for the vintage Bullit model you let slip away."

Chuck shifted uncomfortably. "Sir, do you mind dropping the metaphors? Those never go well around here."

"Sure. You dumped the brunette pixie, now you're longing for the blonde fitness model who dumped your sorry butt."

Chuck considered for a moment. "That about covers it."

Big Mike leaned across the desk, hands clasped together. "Now, son, I'll level with you. I never understood what that delectable blonde morsel saw in you. But whatever it was, she couldn't get enough of it for nearly three years. Believe me, boy. I just gave up Twinkies after a 25-year affair."

"You gave up Twinkies, sir?"

Big Mike puffed out his chest and patted his "svelte" stomach. "Given up most pastries. Can't you tell?"

Wide-eyed, scrambling for a lie, Chuck said, "Well…of course! I just didn't want to embarrass you."

Big Mike beamed with pride. But then, he turned serious, whispering conspiratorially to Chuck. "Be our secret?" Chuck nodded. Big Mike pulled open his top desk drawer and retrieved a single pack of Twinkies. "Twenty-five years, Bartowski. That's a long time to love. And you don't get over that kind of love overnight." The big man gazed affectionately at the Hostess treat. "I keep this old girl as a reminder of our time together."

The gears in Chuck's brain began to turn.

"Moral of the story is this, Bartowski," Big Mike said, recapturing Chuck's attention. "The girl was with you for three years. And ladies are, by definition, sentimental. Poke around, see if she keeps mementos of your time together."

"You mean I should snoop?"

"I mean spy. For information. All is fair in love and war, Bartowski. Sun Tzu said that." Then, thoughtfully, Big Mike stared off into the distance. "Or was it Kool and the Gang?" He shook away the thought. "The point remains. Dig around. If there's anything, and I mean anything that says she still digs the Bartowski, you gotta make a play for her. Because you and Grimes are the only two fools around here I can count on. You go girl crazy, that just leaves Grimes, and then God help us all."

Chuck nodded thoughtfully.

--------------

Later that day, when Chuck was sure Sarah was occupied upstairs in the yogurt shop, he snuck into Castle, determined to find his evidence.

With stealth born out of Intersect 2.0, or perhaps countless hours playing _Splinter Cell_ on Xbox, Chuck quietly moved down the steel-grated steps. Then across the main command center, down a short hallway, finding the small room Sarah had claimed as her private office.

It wasn't particularly large. Barely big enough to contain the standard CIA issued plastic framed desk it held. Chuck settled into the swivel chair and began to search, first rooting across the desktop. But all he found were various reports, surveillance logs, and paperwork. No picture frames, no silly mementos. His heart fell a bit.

He then moved on to the middle drawer. But all he found were pens, sticky notes, paperclips, and loose change. He shifted to the top left drawer, but all he immediately saw were more office supplies. Jeez. No wonder he could never find a ballpoint pen, she kept them all in here. Pen hoarder.

"What are you doing, Bartowski?"

Chuck yelped in surprise. In the doorway stood John Casey, file in hand, staring quizzically at him. "I was just looking for something. A pen," Chuck defended. He grabbed the first pen he felt and held it up. "See?"

Casey snorted in laughter. "Bartowski, you make it too easy sometimes."

Chuck finally noticed the item he held. "Bwah!" he screamed in shock, dropping the tampon. He started to wipe his hand on his shirt, but realizing what he was doing, found a couple sheets of unused computer paper and used them as crude towels.

"At least now I can calculate with certainty when it's your time of the month. Before it was just guesswork."

"Hardy har har."

Casey shook his head. Taking a modicum of pity on the younger man, he said, "Bottom left drawer. Be quick. Walker will be down in five." With no further explanation, Casey walked away.

Curious, Chuck pulled open the bottom left drawer.

It was the Holy Grail. Or, at least, the sign he was looking for. Inside was a slew of little knickknacks and mementos of he and Sarah's time together. Photographs of them together, posing and playing for the camera. There were dried, pressed roses and gardenias, saved for posterity. Even a silly little toy he found in a novelty shop; a little doggy that when wound up, its tail wagged. Countless bits of stuff. Some momentous, and some— at least in his mind— trivial. But nearly every gift he'd ever given Sarah she kept in this drawer.

It was all he needed to know.

------------------

With the knowledge that Sarah still felt for him, Chuck had hoped to capitalize on it quicker. But it took three days for him to come up with a battle strategy for Operation Enduring Romance. Okay, so it was a weak title, but he'd just watched a documentary on the Second Gulf War…

"_Don't stop! Believ-in! Hold on to that feel-in!"_

In a few minutes Beckman would appear for the teleconference and the meeting could begin. Until then, Sarah was content to watch _Glee _and eat her strawberry sprinkled yogurt. Next to him, Casey was cleaning his Sig and actually humming along to the song and tapping his foot.

"What?" he snapped, off their curious looks. "I like Journey. I saw 'em in concert in '79 and '82. Steve Perry could belt 'em out."

"Are you watching that show stupid _again_?" Shaw questioned as he swept into the room.

Sarah sighed. "Yeah, I'm watching that stupid show again."

"It isn't stupid," Chuck defended. Shaw quirked a brow. "Okay, it's a little stupid. But I watch Robot Chicken. People like stupid things."

"Apparently," Shaw agreed.

Chuck resumed flipping through his comic book, so he didn't notice the appreciative look Sarah flashed him. "Whatever, Mr. Perfectly Coiffed Guy," he mumbled. "Sorry we're not pressed by the CIA mold."

Sarah snorted in laughter. Chuck was fairly confident it wasn't the show that amused her so, but rather his comment. His chest swelled with pride.

"_Don't stop! Believ-in! Hold on to that feel-in!"_

And suddenly it hit him. Chuck's eyes went wide. He nearly fell flat on his face, he stumbled out of his chair so fast. "Guys, I gotta go!"

"Mr. Bartowski, Beckman is about to initiate a meeting," Shaw warned.

Chuck hesitated a moment. "Yeah, uh, give the General my best. Tell her I have…"

"Spastic colon?" Sarah smirked, throwing out his favorite ailment. "Or maybe impetigo?"

Chuck blinked. Did she just make a joke? "I was gonna say a tummy ache, but okay. Can you take notes for me?"

Chuck rushed up the stairs and out the room. Shaw stared after him.

"He's very strange," the young agent observed.

With a shy smile, Sarah agreed. "Yes, he is."

A moment later, Beckman appeared on the monitor.

"Shaw, Walker, Casey," she greeted. She frowned, lips pursed, and asked, "Where's Chuck?"

"Uh…impetigo," Shaw said.

"Ah. My grandmother had that. Very nasty."

------------

Chuck rushed into Buy More, breathless. He scoured the Nerd Herd desk… Why the hell did he do that? Since when would they actually be _there_?

He rushed to the men's bathroom. Sure enough, there were strange lights flickering from the handicapped stall. As he approached the door, he heard strange explosions and giggling. And when he knocked…

"Guys? It's Chuck. I need to talk to you."

"Shit!" Lester shouted.

"Flush it, flush it!" Jeff frantically shouted.

There was some fumbling about, followed by a toilet flush. A moment later, Jeff pushed open the door, releasing a thin cloud of smoke. "Chuck," he slurred, waving in grand fashion. "Won't you enter my office?"

"Uh…okay."

Chuck entered, once more startled by the sight. The stall was totally decked out, replete with a mini-fridge and stereo system. There were posters of Sports Illustrated models on the walls. And was that a lava lamp?

The two men sat in beanbag chairs and watched _Apocalypse Now_ on a portable DVD player. Jeff offered a jar full of beef jerky sticks as Lester coughed into his hand and discretely tried to wave smoke away.

"What brings you to my inner sanctum?" Jeff asked. How he managed to make it sound so dirty…

"I, uh, I can't believe I'm about to say this…"

Intrigued, Lester leaned forward, chin resting upon his clasped hands. "Pray tell, Chuck, what is it you…?" He launched into a coughing fit, a few tendrils of smoke exiting his mouth. When he spoke, it was a bit high and squeaky. "What is it you wish to say?"

"Guys, I'm getting Sarah back."

Lester nodded. "Interesting."

"Does that mean Hannah's on the market?" Jeff asked. "Because I would wreck that."

Chuck stared at Jeff a moment. And when no lethal assassin information uploaded, he returned his focus to Lester. "I have an idea how to do it, but I need help. And God help me, I never thought I would say this, but here it is: Lester, Jeff, I need you guys. I need the talents only you two can provide. I need the talents of…Jeffster."

Placing his palms on the desk before him, Lester slowly stood and leaned over the desk, a pleased smile on his face. "Chuck…what's in it for us?"

Chuck blinked. "Think of where I'm standing right now. Think of how Big Mike would react if he knew where I was standing right now."

Lester nodded. "Well played, good sir."

Chuck shrugged in appreciation. "Can I count on you?"

Jeff belched loudly and scratched himself. With that very hand, he offered Chuck a handshake. "We're in."

Chuck leaned back, retreating from the vile appendage. "S'okay. I don't need a shake. I'll let you know the when and where."

-------------

Three days later, in Castle, Casey sat at a table enjoying his lunch. Sarah busied herself wiping down the counters and refilling yogurt cups and spoons. And Shaw was…well, Casey didn't really care where Shaw was.

"Oh, Walker," he mumbled around a mouthful of pastrami on rye, "the geek wanted me to pass along a message…"

"Nerd," Sarah absently said.

"What?"

"He prefers nerd."

"Whatever. He wants you to swing by the Buy More during your lunch break."

Sarah frowned. Not that she minded going over, but things between them still hadn't fully recovered since Prague. "Did he say why?" she asked.

"Didn't ask. Don't care."

Sarah checked the clock on the wall. Her lunch break began at one. She could swing by Buy More, have a pleasant chat with Chuck, then come back to Castle to have lunch and catch the previous night's _Better Off Ted_. Not a bad lunch break.

"I guess I can meet him."

She didn't catch the wry grin upon Casey's face. Nor did she hear him mutter, "Gotta give the nerd credit on this one."

---------------

Outside the Buy More, Sarah was surprised to find Ellie and Devon. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Chuck called," Ellie explained. "He said we were to meet you guys here."

"Something about all of us going to lunch," Devon continued.

Sarah shook her head, confused. This was just getting stranger. "I'm sure he has something up his sleeve. Shall we go in?" The Woodcombs proceeded to follow Sarah inside.

---------------

Soon as they entered the Buy More, Sarah knew something was amiss. There, standing before the Nerd Herd desk, were Jeff, Lester, and Morgan. They each occupied a musical instrument, a keyboard, bass guitar, and drums, respectively.

"What's going on?" she asked of Morgan, because frankly, the other two creeped her the hell out. "Where's Chuck?"

"Preparing to make his grand entrance."

And with that, the band began to play. Sarah stared, confused, unsure. Wondering if she should be horrified, or if she should be…

Chuck emerged from the CD aisle, strumming a six-string acoustic guitar. With a shy smile and wink, he took his place at the forefront of the band. In a silly little gesture, he let his mouth hang open. Then, with a resounding pop, he snapped it closed. Sarah realized that was her cue to pick her jaw off the floor.

"This is for Sarah," he explained to the audience. Sure enough, it wasn't merely Sarah, Ellie, and Devon who had stopped to check what was happening. Dozens of customers were all lined around, ready for the performance. "I know sometimes it seems like we're stuck with each other. Honestly, I couldn't be happier."

Then, in a remarkably good voice, tinged with just a bit of gravely roughness, Chuck began to belt out the lyrics.

_**(Huey Lewis and The News: "Stuck With You")**_

_"__We've had some fun  
And yes we've had our ups and downs  
Been down that rocky road  
__But here we are, still around"_

Without even realizing it, Sarah's hands went to her face, covering her mouth. So shocked was she by the sight before her.

"_We thought about someone else  
But neither one took the bait  
__We thought about breaking up  
But now we know it's much too late"_

The smile Ellie wore would likely freeze on her face. She bounced excitedly, never more proud of her brother.

_We are bound by all the rest  
Like the same phone number  
All the same friends  
And the same address"_

Around that time, Casey led the way into Buy More, Shaw beside him. "So what is so important for me to see?" Shaw asked. Very simply, Casey thrust his chin towards the action by the Nerd Herd desk. Both men stopped and watched.

The performance continued on. The band was actually quite brilliant. They even began to harmonize on the vocals.

"_Yes, it's true, (yes it's true)_  
_I am happy to be stuck with you  
Yes, it's true, (yes it's true)  
I'm so happy to be stuck with you  
'Cause I can see, (I can see)__  
That you're happy to be stuck with me"_

Shaw's eyes were not fixed upon the band or its singer. Instead, his focus was entirely on the group's number one fan. Sarah Walker appeared mesmerized, nearly on the verge of tears.

_"We've had our doubts  
We never took them seriously  
__And we've had our ins and outs  
But that's the way it's supposed to be_

_We thought about giving up (giving up)  
But we could never stay away_  
_Thought about breaking up (breaking up)  
But now we know it's much too late"_

Chuck had one more trick up his sleeve. Suddenly a dozen Green Shirts appeared, six men from one side of the aisle, six women from the other. Each pair met in the middle and began a 1950s do-wap style dance.

_"And it's no great mystery  
If we change our minds  
Eventually, it's back to you and me_

_Yes, it's true, (yes it's true)  
I am happy to be stuck with you  
__Yes, it's true, (yes it's true)  
I'm so happy to be stuck with you_  
_'Cause I can see, (I can see)  
That you're happy to be stuck with me"  
_

Sarah at last removed her hands from her mouth. Chuck was finally privy to the wide, dopey smile upon her face. In that instance he knew: hope was more than just alive.

Sarah's hand blindly reached for Ellie's. She clasped the brunette's hand tightly. Ellie couldn't decide who she should watch: Chuck or Sarah.

_"We are bound by all the rest  
Like the same phone number  
All the same friends  
And the same address"_

The Green Shirts continued their dance. But Sarah paid them no attention, her entire focus directed upon the man fronting the band.

_Yes, it's true, (yes it's true)  
I am happy to be stuck with you  
Yes, it's true, (yes it's true) _

_I'm so happy to be stuck with you_  
_'Cause I can see, (I can see)  
That you're happy to be stuck with me!"_

"I don't get it," Shaw admitted. "Yeah, he's emerging as a spy. He could even wind up being a good one. But beyond that, I don't understand what she sees in him."

"The boy has his endearing qualities," Casey begrugingly acknowledged. "What I can't get is what she ever saw in you. No offense, Shaw, but you practically have 'tool' written across your forehead."

"_I'm so happy to be stuck with you_  
_'Cause I can see, (I can see)  
That you're happy to be stuck with me!"_

The song ended, the music died down, the audience erupted into applause. An older lady, perhaps mid-60s, approached Sarah and laid a friendly hand upon her shoulder. "Honey," she advised, "if you don't kiss that boy, I will."

With that, Sarah burst into tears of joy. "Yes, ma'am," she said. She then obeyed the woman's suggestion. With a few long strides, she was with Chuck. Her hands palming his cheeks, her lips firmly planted against his. It wasn't the most romantic or graceful of kisses. Wet tears continued to flow down Sarah's cheek and she couldn't stop giggling.

"Chuck Bartowski," she laughed, "no one has ever done anything like this for me."

"That was the idea," he smiled.

The audience whooped and hollered at the happy couple. Even Casey couldn't help but smile a little.

"How did you manage to get the Green Shirts to dance?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, I convinced Morgan to offer them all half-days off in exchange." Both watched as all twelve Green Shirts flocked for the main entrance and departed. "Which, they're all apparently taking now," Chuck observed. "Wow. Big Mike's gonna respond well to this development."

Sarah brought Chuck's focus back upon her and delivered another kiss, this one far more intense and focused. "It's not your problem."

Chuck grinned like a big dope. "Wanna get out of here? I took the liberty of recording the transmission feed for tonight's new episode of _Glee_. We can watch it six hours early on Castle's plasma screen. I'll even buy you a burger and yogurt."

Sarah's eyes sparkled. With a shy grin, she asked, "Medium rare, extra pickles?"

"Of course."

"And strawberry yogurt with sprinkles?"

"Would I get you anything else?"

Sarah nodded once, the grin on her face growing ever wider. "Okay."

Chuck offered his arm, which Sarah happily looped her own arm through. They stopped only momentarily for Ellie to kiss his cheek and whisper into his ear, "I'm so proud of you, brother." They left to a fervent round of applause.

Jeff, Lester, and Morgan also watched them depart. The little bearded man stared proudly after his best friend. "That man is my hero," he declared. But suddenly, the good tidings ended with:

"GRIMES! WHERE THE HELL ARE ALL THE GREEN SHIRTS AT?!"

"Oh boy."

THE END


End file.
